Golden Hill by Francis Spufford

Golden Hill by Francis Spufford

Any book with its lowest book club score in the sevens and highest from four members of the club in the eights must have something going for it. There was a general consensus that this was a very entertaining and enjoyable book and it was not surprising therefore that on a cold and frosty evening in January 2017 in the ancient hostelry of Ye Foxe and Badgerre in Wellowe we were informed that the book had just been awarded the Costa best first novel award for 2016.


Mr Smith turns up in 1746 New York City with its population of 7000 with a financial instrument which if honoured has the vast value of £1000. During the next 60 days whilst he awaits encashment of this bond by one of the nascent banking families of the City our hero stumbles through a number of amusing and sometimes frightening experiences which paint an authentic and vivid picture of life in the city at that time. In double quick time the story takes Smith to the coffee houses of the city, a frightening mugging scene on bonfire night, an emerging love interest, an early New York amateur dramatic performance, imprisonment in the local fort and a duel with swords on the common at dawn.

Perhaps the greatest compliment to the author should be awarded for his ability to set the scene in time and space in a most interesting and engaging way stimulating the imagination. The description of the city’s dark alleyways, the noise from the rigging of the nearby sailing ships, the scene in a crowded smokey coffee house and a frightening pursuit through the narrow alleyways are imaginatively and evocatively described and were appreciated by all. The author clearly has an in depth historical knowledge enabling him to weave the details of life at this time into an almost completely plausible story.

The book stimulated discussion about the social “glue” which kept this small mixed community of people living together. Here on this small tip of Manhattan Island were living Dutch and English, Catholic and Protestant, social elite and commoners and yet generally they all seemed to "rub along together" pretty well. Yet only a hundred miles away people lived in fear of their lives from attacks by the French and native Indians. At that time no police force was yet in existence to keep order in the settlement.

Of the minor criticisms several didn’t really grasp the descriptions of the money settlement arrangements and embryonic banking system that had established itself in New York to honour a “bill” written on a piece of paper in London which might take six weeks to cross the Atlantic and then sometimes would be lost by shipwreck.

Others questioned the implausibility of the storyline in respect of Smith's lineage which was only revealed as the final denouement to the story and the likelihood that his racial identity would not have been immediately detected by the untrusting New Yorkers.

Finally the other most appreciated feature of the story was the authors skilful and amusing writing style and innovative use of period English yet which read like comprehensible modern prose and not text from Shakespeare. Some of the best examples have been picked out for us by one of our most avid international contributors from the subcontinent.

• “Once, Mrs Tomlinson might have had a fresh, or ingenuous, charm. Now – said the judgement of the women’s gaze, at least, upon her six-and-forty years – she trembled, like a plum already fermenting, about to burst in a mess of juices.”

• “How hard it is to describe a desirable woman without running into geography! Or the barnyard. Or the resources of the fruit-bowl.”

• “the stupid things humanity was wont to do, in the grip of desire, and men proverbially.”

And when the narrator (Tabitha) capitulates to the reader on not having the skill to describe the rules and formalities of a duel of honour:
• “ But really, this is useless, and no more enables the reader to see the battle, than if I shouted numbers at you; which, indeed, I appear to be doing. The truth is, that I am obliged to copy these names for sword-fighting out of a book, having no direct experience to call upon. I throw myself upon the reader’s mercy, or rather their sense of resignation. Having previously endured this tale’s treatment of the game of piquet, and of the act of love, they may with luck by now expect no great coherence in the reporting of a sword-fight.“

All in all a jolly good read that was enjoyed by every book club member . As well as an entertaining story this was an interesting insight into life and customs in New York at the time.

The Glorious Heresies, by Lisa McInerney

The Coeur de Lion, 1st December 2016
The Glorious Heresies, by Lisa McInerney

Seven of us met in ‘Bath’s smallest pub’ to discuss this book by one of Ireland’s up and coming young writers – winner of the Bailey’s Women’s prize for fiction.

Set in post-Celtic crash Cork, the book follows a disparate group of characters including a local gangland boss, a decidedly opinionated and slightly dangerous grandmother, a reluctant sex worker, a couple of dodgy fixers and a school-leaving drug-dealing wannabe whizz kid and his gorgeous girlfriend. There’s an accidental murder, a spot of arson in a church and a series of wild and woolly adventures in the city and out in the western reaches of County Cork.

Steve, whose choice the book was, found it dark, funny and, knowing Cork reasonably well, very convincing – insofar as he had ever encountered a Cork like this. The point that struck him most forcibly, and one of the key thrusts of the book, was the range of issues the country has in shedding the grip of religion, only a generation or so earlier parting young mothers from their children and ruling the roost in communities. The transformation has been huge but it hasn’t been easy and there are deep scars to heal, as Maureen Phelan demonstrates. Lots of contradictions, as in real Irish life – the godsquad that prostitute Georgy falls in with ends up having her hammering on the door of the brothel where she used to work – which is where she falls in with Maureen and gains a kind of redemption.

There was a shared sense among us that it took a few chapters for the author to really find her voice. Too often in the early stages there was a sense that she was over-writing it. It was better when she focused on moving the action forwards, and less on over-florid expressionism. But once she got going it was an enjoyable read. Chris W had found the early part of the book a bit too dark for comfort and feared it might get a bit tough going but, similarly, found it easier going the further in he got. He appreciated the interwoven themes, the sense of foreboding created around JP, hoping Ryan and Tony came out of it well and that the younger kids came to no harm while dad (Tony) was drying out.

The social commentary was appreciated by Rob, not just around religion but more general social observations on family life on the edge of poverty. He also felt that the ending was done well – it’s unusual to get so much specific ‘filling in the blanks’ at the end, but this was mentioned and appreciated by several of the BBBC. Mark W, who had also commented on the Runyonesque cast of city low-life characters said he reckoned the final three chapters, and particularly the last chapter, which began: “The frame around which one builds one’s life is a brittle thing, and in a city of souls connected one snapped beam can threaten the spikes and shadows of the skyline”, were fine examples of an author expertly pulling her novel together to a satisfying conclusion. Again, Mark had found it hard to get going but worthwhile in the end.

Chris B enjoyed the book, found it extremely readable and pacy, getting inside the characters and generating empathy and sympathy with different characters at different times. Neil was perhaps a little less sold on the novel, and although admitting in general to being a happy reader, was unable to buy wholly into the character of JP for example, which he though was rather clichéd (Maureen too). In addition he didn’t feel JP was sufficiently scary. Hoped for better things for Ryan but was with Joseph when he said ‘Sort yourselves out’ – found it a bit tedious. His take on the ending was converse to some of the others in that he felt it to be a little spoon-fed to him – would have liked to have been left to tie up his own narrative loose ends.

Richard sent his comments from afar: having researched in a professional context around the drug issues in modern urban Ireland, he felt it dealt effectively with these all-too-real problems for young people. He also commented on how in general the structure of the book was convincing and mostly successful given the range of issues it addressed and the fact that it was the author’s first novel. Plenty to enjoy in the situations and relationships, but some of the characterisation was too florid and the writing didn’t really settle down.

Mark T had the mirror image experience of most others, in that he felt it started well, but then he got distracted by another book and when he came back he was unable to engage with it at all, found it unpleasant and unlikeable and didn’t finish it.

There was something for most of us to like in it and the discussion fired off another around how a generation ago the IRA would surely have figured in the cast of characters in an urban gangland setting (the contrast with the themes in Colm Toibin’s 1970’s-set Nora Webster was remarked upon).

Scores (with MT not contributing a score):
SC 7.5
RG 7.8
CW 7.8
MW 8.0
CB 7.8
NR-B 7.3
RV 7.5

The Vegetarian by Han Kang

The Vegetarian was winner of the Man Booker International Prize 2016 and mercifully short after some of our longer reads recently. Most of us found it strange and interesting. It highlighted our lack of knowledge about Korean society and linguistic style, though apparently the translator, Deborah Smith had not been to Korea until after she did her first draft, though later became friends with the author: more about their relationship here: Guardian Books

For those who do not know the story, here is a synopsis:

Yeong-hye and her husband are ordinary people. He is an office worker with moderate ambitions and mild manners; she is an uninspired but dutiful wife. The acceptable flatline of their marriage is interrupted when Yeong-hye, seeking a more 'plant-like' existence, decides to become a vegetarian, prompted by grotesque recurring nightmares. In South Korea, where vegetarianism is almost unheard-of and societal mores are strictly obeyed, Yeong-hye's decision is a shocking act of subversion. Her passive rebellion manifests in ever more bizarre and frightening forms, leading her bland husband to self-justified acts of sexual sadism. His cruelties drive her towards attempted suicide and hospitalisation. She unknowingly captivates her sister's husband, a video artist. She becomes the focus of his increasingly erotic and unhinged artworks, while spiralling further and further into her fantasies of abandoning her fleshly prison and becoming - impossibly, ecstatically - a tree. Fraught, disturbing and beautiful, The Vegetarian is a novel about modern day South Korea, but also a novel about shame, desire and our faltering attempts to understand others, from one imprisoned body to another.

In response to the strange quality of the book, Chris B had read it twice and concluded it was about the oppression of women in Korean (and other) society. Yeong-hye escapes from her dull, oppressed, unrealised life by rejecting the meat eating society, driven by her terrible recurring dream of violence. In the end, appears to be trying to return to the earth. Her experience creates mental illness, depression, eating disorder, psychosis which may be seen to be partly triggered by the abuse she experiences as a child at the hands of her father. Her siblings want to intervene both then and when her father hits her for her stubborn refusal to eat meat. But are too afraid. Her older sister protects herself by being obedient and leaving her sister to be the one that suffers. But she too suffers depression in living her accepting and conventional life, even with an unconventional artist husband.

We see too the reactions of the conventional Mr Cheong, Yeong-hye's husband and the painter obsessed with painted bodies in sexual poses to the two sisters' behaviour. Both fail to see or respond to the needs of the women. But interestingly, Kang seems to have had an even wider conundrum to explore:

 As she said in her Booker Prize acceptance speech, she writes to pursue questions, in this case, the question of being human. Yeong-hye, she says desperately wants to reject being a human, part of the human race that commits such violence.

We discovered that the three parts of the book were originally published separately and definitely for a Korean audience in the first place. Steve preferred the first and third parts and agreed with Chris' understanding of the book. He felt the section focussed on the Mongolian mark was less convincing. He also found some of the writing stilted e.g. the words of Mr Cheong. Was this Korean style, the specific authors' style or a result of translation? Richard had similar thoughts. Steve also found reading about such a different society with such differentiation between men and women interesting and challenging. He found the description of someone who has given up, lost hope and accepts she will die together with the imagery of the forest some of the most powerful parts.

The parts Mark T found interesting was the comparison between the two sisters. Both had much to admire but as often in life, maybe a combination of the best bits of both would be preferable! He also found the video art sections intriguing.

Richard enjoyed the book and found it quick to read. Like several of us, he found it strange and difficult to understand: the value of a Book Club is to hear other's views. But shouldn't a book be clearer about what it is about? Neil thought the same. Richard wondered if vegetarians are strange people already or are seen as strange when they become so?!

Chris W too found it interesting and fascinating in its depiction of such a different country. Like other Murakami fans, he found many echoes with that author in this book. He was interested in the experience of urban life which seemed very conventional and limited and the yearning in Young-hye to be close to nature. This only happens when she is sent to a mental hospital. Clearly food is very important in this culture, to the point where a father strikes his daughter over it. In the mental hospital, the vivid description emphasised how no-one was listening to the patient. He concluded it was an interesting book, well translated with some interesting snapshots but he did not pick up themes of oppression and abuse.

Neil found the cultural differences made the book harder to understand or emphasise with the characters. It was "quite interesting, a bit frustrating and difficult to understand what it was about".

Rob wondered if it was a book about Korean society for a Korean audience or for a foreign one. If the latter, it was too soft on the issues it raised. Whilst it was interesting and did make a point about the gender issues, he found it unconvincing. There was no cogent reason, he felt for the vegetarianism, no critique of the mental health system and the Mongolian mark made little impression, except perhaps for the sexual encounter. He was not convinced Kang was trying to say something meaningful as opposed to using things like the vegetarianism and the mental health system as plot devices.

Mark W was pretty underwhelmed by the whole thing: "fairly typical repressed far eastern sexual fantasy stuff in the middle, masquerading as art, dressed up at the beginning and the end with various musings. Not my cup of tea".

So interesting but not amazing as shown by the average score of 6.3 and £10 left in the kitty!

Where My Heart Used to Beat by Sebastian Faulks

The trouble with being a highly rated and esteemed author is that people then begin to expect seriously good books from you. The consensus from the Bath Blokes Book Club was that Sebastian Faulks somewhat let himself down with ‘Where My Heart Used To Beat’. 

Much of what one expects from Faulks was certainly there. A nice, easy writing style that meant the book flowed without too much trouble (and thus, for some, a highly welcome relief after we’d ploughed through ‘A Little Life’ and ‘History of Seven Killings’ in recent months). There were the usual highly perceptive observations about life, relationships, the world and so on - almost everyone came armed with quotes they wished to share with others (some with too many quotes). Yet, despite this, opinion within the group split in three as to what the resultant book provided:

• The predominant view was that it was a bit of a lazy book. By returning to previous themes around psychiatry and the first world war, Faulks almost gave the impression that he had a book to deliver and was doing it without having to do too much additional background research. It was a book all this sub-section of people relatively enjoyed, but felt it was (in the words of Steve) "formulaic Faulks"
• For a minority of others, it did deliver. Chris W. felt it managed to create in 300 pages all the content and story that ‘A Little Life’ had failed to do in nearly three times that amount of words. Mark T (whilst having yet to finish) was thoroughly enjoying it - and seeing parallels with his favourite ‘Magus’.
• Meanwhile Richard had a much more negative view - being "very disappointed and totally failing to be engaged by either the characters or the story".

One element of this discussion was whether, as the opening sentence to this summary implies, we were perhaps being too hard on Faulks. As Chris W said "People are judging him to too high a standard because of what he’s done in the past" - with the suggestion that a book of this quality from another writer would have been receiving greater praise.

So, having said that, the book generated more discussion and conversation than many and, as conversation progressed, there was a noticeable warming towards it. Points/issues covered included:

• There was some really good raw material - the Italian war scenes, the setting on the island (though one or two doubted the reality of that. Really. Which 50/60 somethings amongst us haven’t been invited to an idyllic island only to have a young woman take her clothes off and seduce us?) and the relationship with the father (Neil feeling the letter at the end had much potential for further narrative and could/should have appeared earlier on). The feeling persisted though that it didn’t quite all add up as it might have done.
• The core storyline of unrequited love naturally generated much conversation with differing takes on it. Some (Mark W. and Richard) thought the response when the couple came together after nearly 40 years was completely unrealistic given the stated impact on Robert’s life. Others (Rob, Mark T. and Neil) felt it was highly plausible, in that it is possible for a person to have that impact on someone’s life whilst also recognising it was a relationship of its time that could not be claimed back. Others (Chris B) felt Robert was just a bit pathetic for allowing his life to be so damaged by an early love affair. Richard just wanted to know why, if it mattered that much to him, he hadn’t sought out and found her years previously (obviously forgetting the difficulty in communication and tracing people in pre-internet days).
• There were differing views on the central character. Some, like Steve, liked the frailty and fallibility of the character, whilst others such as Chris W. got engaged with him and really wanted it to all turn out OK in the end.
• There was a view (Neil, Rob and others) that Faulks had once again been able to create a belief in the settings and the atmosphere so that the reader could really feel they were present in the story. 

There also followed a side discussion about why the two 20th century wars have been such a focus on content/setting in the books we have read over the years. They are clearly a major influence on society even now - having dominated the agenda for much of the 20th century. As we noted in discussion, the wars were a central influence on lives of all of our parents (and thus of some of the authors and/or the authors parents) and they really were not that long ago - the gap between the end of the second world war and the birth of all bar young Neil was less than the period of time that the Bath Blokes Book Club has been meeting.

So, a decent book, really enjoyable in parts, but ultimately (for most) not what it might have been. An overall score of 6.51 (with a probably higher score from Mark T still to come) - which is exactly the average score of all books since we re-calibrated the scoring in late 2014.

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Discussion at the Forester and Flower in Combe Down on Thursday 4^th August 2016 

All 7 of us (except for MarkT, on holiday) met at the Forester and Flower in Combe Down on Thursday 4^th August to discuss A Little Life.  Only 2 of us had completed it, one did not wish to, and the rest did want to but felt they could discuss it anyway.

Richard kicked off, describing it as “a seriously good book, one of the best I’ve read in a very long time.” He said that he found it “gripping, extremely interesting, with very well drawn characters developed in depth (Jude of course, but also Willem, JB, Malcolm, Harold, Andy, and a host of minor characters), written extremely well and with an engaging and interesting style, and getting to drips with a host of hugely important issues, including:

·         friendship and its various forms,

·         the nature of resilience (a special interest of mine),

·         questions about the possibilities of recovery from early and later childhood damage,

·         Child abuse and child sexual abuse,

·         the nature of depression and self-worth,

·         existential questions about the will to live and the nature of suicide,

·         love and sex and their inter-twinness,

·         how much can be expected of psychotherapy,

·         self-harm and cutting. So much about cutting – the detail, the psychology of it. DSH: About 1 in 10 young people. Plus, In a study of over 4000 self-harming adults in hospital, 80% had overdosed and around 15% had cut themselves. In the community, it is likely that cutting is a more common way of self-harming than taking an overdose.”

Richard said that it reminded him in some ways of other books which have had a major impact on him – Sophie’s Choice (William Styron), for example, also grappling with the aftermath of awful experiences and the nature of love and friendship. He said “I loved lots and lots of it: the wonderful monologues which each character had with themselves as they struggled to come to grips which who they were and where they were going in life; and of course Jude, with all of his complications.” When later the fact that some of the characters were gay was raised, Richard stated that it did not seem a central issue in the book – yes, some were gay, but … so what?

Chris B went next. He was 94% of the way through it, and “loved it”. He felt that it could have been shorter, and found it frustrating to start each chapter without knowing who was speaking – but these were minor quibbles.  When later the fact that some of the characters were gay was raised, Chris said that, for him, this was not in any way important.

Mark W went next, stating that he had read about 50% of the book and had decided to go no further. “I don’t remember ever reading a book that I have hated as much as this one.  I could not get past certain things that meant I couldn’t engage.” Mark explained that he was on holiday, so it was not the length or the lack of time which led to this – he had time, just hated the book.  So, what were those things? “Pretentious, contrived, characters were caricatures, hated this aspect of USA culture (which aspect? Swearing – the F word a lot). Half way through the book, I still hated it. It was just too gay. So much political correctness – I don’t want to read a book about people cutting themselves and gay relationships and everyone having unusual names.”

Neil had finished it, and said he was somewhere between Richard/ChrisB and MarkW. He did want to pick it up and read it; but there were elements that were less alluring: “really – do I have to read through this again” (cutting)? “You don’t have to go through that detail again and again – so it was physically unpleasant and difficult.” Neil also thought that it could have been shorter and lost nothing.  He also felt that it was very USA Upper-Upper Middle Class – “Just so perfect together, all brilliant people, just one is a bit damaged. I’ve never met anyone with that level of friendship – especially among men. So overall, bits grated and bits felt very good.”

Steve was at 70%. He had “dark, bad thoughts about this at the start – like a USA film – 2 families stuck in a farmhouse and bickering together.  But the very very clever way she structured the narratives built up a layering effect – built up the depth of the characters. This is a very expert bit of writing – the drip feeding of bits of information – a classic detective novel structure, and strangely with this, I didn’t object to this.”  Steve later finished the book and sent round his later thoughts: “Despite still being mildly astonished at the slow rate at which the % readout increased, I do think it was worth it - indeed I found it a quietly remarkable book. I thought the descriptions of the intricacies of deep friendship, love and the agonies of loss were very well described. Her style is understated, and while based around digression and diversion to fill out the story, this worked for me as a way of adding layers of complexity and detail. One of the interesting aspects of the book was to make Jude a really demanding, not-necessarily-likeable character, apparently self-centred and distant... while gradually peeling back the skin that conceals his back story and revealing some of the reasons why, and as a result prompting sympathy and understanding. For once I didn't mind being 'manipulated' by the author as she drip-fed crucial details of Jude's past, because all the other characters were also learning this as they went along. I particularly liked the character of Harold and Julia. And so many different ways of saying sorry, and such a range of things to apologise for! The ending is not unexpected in some ways but manages to pull many of the storylines and character developments together. I had to work hard to finish it but have a feeling I'll remember it for some time. So I'll stick with my score at the meeting.”

Rob was on 60%, and was “enjoying the book, albeit in a slightly unhappy way.  The book is writing about difficult issues which are usually shied away from. There is very good writing.  But my problems are that the construction is unrealistic – 4 characters, all leading lights; why was Jude so well liked? – he is an irritating shit – a boring little sycophant. It is long – it could have been shortened by cutting lots of the little vignettes; and the description of the Gay community – there seem to be more gay people in their social circle than in the circles I know in (eg) London.”  [Subsequently, Rob finished the book and wrote: I found I got into it more as (a lot of) time went on and in particular liked and enjoyed the last 150 pages or so. Having said that, my previous criticisms still stand, namely (i) ridiculous that four people who were college friends are all going to end up being so pre-eminent in their fields (ii) apparently everyone in the US is either gay, or has a gay family member or, if not gay, occasionally sleeps with a member of the same sex (about as likely as everyone being heterosexual), and  (iii) I still don’t see why everyone fawned over Jude so much - he was blatantly extremely irritating. However, it was a good piece of writing so I’m giving it 8.1]

Chris W was only about 30% through, but “I echo Richard and Chris – some very good bits – I just enjoy the characters; it is written in such depth that I get into the thoughts behind; and it is beautifully expressed – her skill – I didn’t even know if it was a ‘her’ – the book seems very ‘gender-free’). But I also agree – it would be good not to have yet another book about Ivy League; and too many ‘He’s’ so one doesn’t know who is speaking.

The evening generated many discussions, including

·         How unrealistic it was to have 4 characters, all leading lights - Steve argued that “it was done deliberately, to create a level playing field” and Richard argued that many people could talk about old school- or University-friends and describe them in ways that would make them appear very successful, even though there will be many elements of their lives that are less so; and

·         The cutting and (masked) depression – how common it is, and how many of us knew people who either had cut, or who were very depressed.

Richard Velleman

August 2016

A Brief History of Seven Killings by Marlon James

Discussion at Hare & Hounds, Lansdown, 2nd June 2016

Neil opened the evening with a quick check on how many people had finished the book and a disappointing 3 out of 8 was the answer, this did not bode well, but surprisingly, despite that we still found a good deal to talk about, even if it was just the simple question of why so few had finished it.

Neil's own view was that it was clearly not the easiest book to read, partly due to the frequent use of Jamaican Patois, partly due to the punctuation and sometimes due to the way the author sometimes employed a stream of consciousness style to convey the thoughts of the protagonist being heard at the time.  Coupled with these factors was the sheer length of the book which would not have necessarily been an issue on it's own had it been an easier read (as someone pointed out, Somerset Maugham's book was much longer but everyone finished it).  However, he felt that a lot of the issue was with the prolonged first section of the book leading up to and dealing with the assassination attempt on Marley, which he thought went on much too long and included far too much unnecessary commentary.  For him for example the long sections with the CIA characters were superfluous and after this first chapter they barely warranted mention again in the rest of the book.  OK, include mention of them, but not all the detail that they brought with them.

After this first part Neil found the pace of the book picked up considerably and became more entertaining.  He did continue to find parts of the book which could have done with heavy editing, perhaps cutting out some of the graphic sex scenes for example, but the "chapters" based in the States whipped along much quicker.  A dichotomy were the parts featuring Dorcas (formerly Nina), where her escapades caring for a man who has a form of Alzheimers seemed similarly unnecessary, but Neil was happy to read these as he found them well told and a pleasant diversion from some of the darker gangland scenarios.

Richard had also finished the book and agreed that it could have been much shorter, but disagreed about which parts he would have cut. For him Dorcas's part being cut out would have been no loss. As we know Richard likes to discover characters with whom he can empathise, and here he found none, even though one or two of the characters were quite interesting, not least of which was Jamaica itself. He also enjoyed some of the historical detail.

However, for Richard the book was difficult to read, too long, too many of the characters were indistinct, there was too much physical and verbal violence and, despite that fact that he LOVES reading about sex, for him there was too much of it in this book. Overall, it didn't do it for him.

Chris B was only about half way through the book (51% in Kindle terms), but despite that was more positive about the experience.  He concurred that it had been hard to get into, but felt that the novel repaid that effort from the reader and became more and more engaging.  In particular he found the technique of giving an individuals POV right up to the point of death was fascinating and well done.  He also thought that the descriptions of how people were exploited and abused, both by gangs and by the politicians, were well done and convincing.  He has enjoyed it so far, maybe he will comment further when he's finished.

Mark T on the other hand hated the book.  He couldn't get into it and had only read 10% of it, feeling that he had got a pretty bad deal spending money on a book that he felt it extremely unlikely he would ever finish.  It reminded him of an experience in his NHS choir where they were singing African songs where he naturally didn't understand the words they were singing which he found incredibly frustrating and for him the language just made the book too inaccessible.

Chris W had got a bit further (21%) and had actually enjoyed the bits that he had read, but again had found it just too hard to get further with.  It simply required too much concentration when he was reading late in the evening, even though he liked the use of the vernacular language. Despite this he was immersed into Jamaican street life and found the insights into the gang culture and the oppressed role of women quite interesting.  He also enjoyed recognising all the cultural references which he remembers from the time, but it is debatable whether he will get around to finishing it.

Steve had got further still (30%) and suspects that with the next book promising to be a lighter read altogether, he may yet find the time to see it to the end.  He appreciated the skill of the author to talk in so many different voices.  He liked the humour that existed in it and although he has struggled with the book so far, still thinks that it may have the makings of a great book....watch this space for updates.

Mark W had asked to be the last to contribute comments on the evening and this was because he had quite a personal connection with the subject matter having been born in Jamaica.  Although he moved from there when he was still an infant, he still has numerous family connections and has made several visits back over the years.  Indeed his cousin was lawyer to the real gangster portrayed as Josey Wales in the book, and was married for some time to the mother of Bob Marley's son who Mark knows quite well.  Consequently the one thing Mark didn't find hard was the language and indeed he agreed to read a passage of Patois which he managed very successfully to a small round of applause.  So it was interesting that despite this Mark still found the book hard work and only finished it a couple of hours before the meeting.

Mark found the book interesting, but not enjoyable, and often found himself questioning what the point of the book was or who it was aimed at.  Even though he was familiar with a lot of the details, he couldn't see why they were fictionalised in the way they were and was also left constantly wondering which bits of the book were true and which weren't.  He also couldn't relate to any of the characters and was mostly just interested in the context and setting. He too also disliked the graphic gay sex (especially as he found it highly unlikely that this would have been tolerated in any way by the gang members fictionalised in the book) as well as with the fact that the book is marketed as being about Bob Marley when it patently isn't. He lost patience with the US section. On the plus side he appreciated the painstaking research that must have gone into it and found two elements noteworthy: firstly the section from Bam Bam's POV that is written in verse and secondly the use of the ghost Jennings to provide a unique perspective.

Rob had mailed in his thoughts before the meeting and had similar feelings to others.  Firstly that the language just slowed down the reading process.  Secondly he echoed Richard's comments that the misognyistic attitudes and inherent day-to-day violence were hard going to read.  However, what has kept Rob going (he was about 30% through at the time of his email) was his interest in the time and place, especially the personae of Bob Marley and Malcolm Manley and the different perspectives the book is giving him on them.  The reference also to a book (Soul on Ice by Eldridge Cleaver) that may have passed many of the rest of us by, made a big impact for Rob as this was a seminal work of great importance to him at the time.

So far then Rob is enjoying the book for its social and historical comment and he is fascinated to find out what happens to the various players in the narrative.  Whether he will still be having read this blog remains to be seen!

Overall a lively discussion considering the few people who had finished the book which included an interesting debate about the Booker Prize and whether or not it's judges really work on literary criteria or just on box ticking for the purposes of proving how appreciative they are of diversity in all its various forms.

Dark Matter by Michelle Paver

Discussion at The Pulteney Arms, Bath, 3^rd March 2016

The book was chosen for several reasons: firstly, a long time had passed since the club had read a book that placed itself in the ‘ghost story’ category (if indeed we ever have); Michelle Paver is familiar to a couple of us through reading her well-received ‘Wolf Brother’ series with our children a few years ago; and as quite a short book it could be a not unwelcome lollipop contrast to the recent run of fairly lengthy tomes.

To cut to the chase, there was general agreement that the book didn’t really match up to the 'ghost story' billing. It wasn’t without its qualities and most of us found something to like, but overall there was a distinct lack of, um, ghostliness.

Jack, the protagonist, is followed through the story largely by means of his own diary. He joins an expedition to spend a winter in the Arctic on a remote part of Svalbard (Spitzbergen). He doesn’t really fit with the public school background of his expedition mates but they need a radio operator and decides to go anyway as it fits with his own (so far thwarted) greater ambitions. On his way back to his digs after the interview, he witnesses the rotting corpse of a drowning victim being recovered from the Thames…

Months later, and already a man down, the ship carrying them north nears Spitzbergen and it becomes clear that the experienced, quite possibly grizzled skipper is reluctant to transport the expedition to the exact location that they originally planned – but why…?

We liked:

Effective, sometimes dramatic descriptions of the location, weather and and scenery; the ice ‘talking to itself’; the loneliness enhanced by the weather, the effects of the increasing cold and shortening daylight. The rigmaroles involved in setting up the radio and the details of the paraphernalia (such as an Austin car engine used as a generator) involved in establishing polar expeditions of the 1930s. There was atmospheric build-up in the description of the mysterious ‘bear post’ outside the hut and the description of bay and what had been left behind by the previous inhabitants. The employment of distraction therapy to reduce Jack’s feelings of fear; the panicking description of getting lost. We all found it an easy enough read and one of us was even prepared to admit that it kept him reading later into the night than usual.

We didn’t like:

The curt and over-dramatic language used at the start of almost every chapter (‘It’s all over, I’m not going’… ‘Jack what the hell are you doing? What the hell are you doing?’…‘I’m still troubled by what happened, so I’m going to try to get it straight’…‘Now I really know I’m in the Arctic’…) - much more suited in style to a book for young teenagers but to grizzled adults it became tedious quite quickly. So it was hard to buy into this as an adult book. The diary format wasn’t entirely plausible, as his entries would be surely be more technical and less emotional. Some of the plot required too great a suspension of disbelief – setting the hut on fire and then being rescued; the relationship with Gus and the rather ‘corny, trashy’ passages addressed by Jack to him. The ‘contrived’ nature of the plot development (such as the one-by-one picking off of his expedition-mates by circumstances rather than nefarious means) meant that the further we went into the book the less we really cared. And for more than one of us there was a blatantly missed opportunity for some fine polar-bear-based jeopardy.

What we thought:

A horror film creates its suspense through the ability to totally immerse its audience in the narrative and visual aspects of the story. In this screen-dominated era, it’s a harder accomplishment to pull off in a book, and on the whole we didn’t feel that Dark Matter managed it. One of us felt it was ‘scary at times’ but others weren’t so sure. There was a fairly engaging setup but the leaps we had to make to buy into the climax of the book were too great. Henry James’ ‘The Turn of the Screw’ was mentioned as an excellent example of a well-written story that effectively creates suspense. In terms of describing the trials and hardships of early 20^th Century polar exploration, the account of Shackleton’s expedition read by the club a few years ago was cited as a better stab (though I’m not sure all of us would entirely agree with that!).

Essentially we felt it was more of a teenager’s book than we were expecting, easily consumed but a bit disappointingly insubstantial as a result, and while it had potential it wasn’t on the whole lived up to.

One score still to come in but otherwise a very consistent set of scores between 5 and 7. Average 5.5.